


Sumptuous

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [119]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Post return, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 10:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5865847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sumptuous: adjective: ˈsəm(p)(t)SH(o͞o)əs: splendid and expensive-looking.</p><p>late Middle English (in the sense ‘made or produced at great cost’): from Old French somptueux, from Latin sumptuosus, from sumptus ‘expenditure’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sumptuous

At a casual glance, Sherlock appeared to be the more sumptuous of the two men, bespoke and polished, while John was well, John; jumpers and loafers, patches at the elbows, he was a bit well-worn at the edges.

However, they alone knew the truth; Sherlock carried the cost of his love for his blogger in the scars that were etched along his ribs, across his shoulders and down his back. The scars that John first wept over, then tended carefully, until they became a chapter in their long history, a bookend to those lost years that cost John almost everything.

They told their stories to each other, John caressed and whimpered as Sherlock named the places and pain as if reciting from the A to Z, the only sign of emotion was the slight tremor in the hands that attempted to comfort his blogger. Eventually, he simply held on tight to the man who waited for him, who believed in that one last miracle, even though he had long ago stopped believing in fairy tale endings. He kissed John's tears away and promised to stay as long as John wanted him. John pushed himself up and away from the detective's arms and glared.

"What?" 

"Can you honestly believe I'd ever want you to leave?"

"Just giving you an out."

"I never wanted an out, from the moment I met you-"

"I'm sorry."

"Let me finish, please?"

Sherlock nodded, gently running his fingers along John's sides.

"From the moment I met you, I never wanted to be with anyone else. You are impossible, obnoxious, and drive me up the fucking wall, but I love you in ways I can't even begin to understand. Please, please don't ever offer to leave me again. You became my life and when you left, you almost ended me. No. Look at me, please?"

Sherlock turned his red-rimmed silver eyes on John and opened his mouth to speak. John put a finger to his lips and shook his head. "No, love. You are stuck with me. We are stuck with each other. We have cost each other too much in the past to desert this ship now. Tonight, we tell our sad stories, tomorrow, we start again, older and wiser; we each have our battle scars, the scars that mean we survived in order to find each other; to return to each other, I believe."

Sherlock reached up to trace John's own much older scar and sighed. "There is no place I'd rather be than by your side, John..."

So, they still bicker and fuss about who picks up the milk, yes, there are still odd body parts in places one does not expect them, and Mrs. Hudson will still bring up the occasional meal, even though she is still 'not their housekeeper,' but at night, they kiss each other's past pain and make love slowly and wisely, then wrap around the other and sleep until the morning sounds of London break into their dreams.


End file.
